


Loveless

by mushvroom



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Angst, Brother's Best Friend, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Harry's in a Scuffed Boyband, High School, Louis is an Angsty Teen, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:40:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29525847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mushvroom/pseuds/mushvroom
Summary: Harry's in a band and Louis hates everyone.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I am using the American school system because I don't know shit about European school systems. Not sorry.
> 
> Song for this chapter is Crumbs by Belaganas, enjoy :)

Louis tilts his head to one side, then to the other. He runs a hand through his hair and dishevels it a bit. He squints at its reflection in the mirror and then widens his eyes again and strikes a pose. He is definitely hot stuff, but his hair on the other hand...

It sort of looks like a strawberry has just shit on his head. Which could be a good thing. Maybe it'll grow on him.

He decides he'll ask Niall's opinion. 

"Niaaall," he sing songs as he slumps down the stairs. He's met with deafening silence. "Niall!"

When he reaches the bottom of the stairs he hears low murmurs drifting into the air from the garage. Aha. He struts over to the garage door and yanks it open, the voices becoming clear when he does.

"...A little one two three action? What say you- Louis, what the hell?" Niall grumbles, eyes settling distastefully on Louis. Louis loves being a nuisance. 

"Niaaall," Louis drones once again, dragging his feet as he makes his way over to him. "Help, please."

"What does the princess want now?" a lower, gravelly voice mocks. Louis ignores it.

"Help with what, Louis, we're practicing," Niall says calmly, although Louis can see annoyance beginning to bubble under his skin. 

"M' hair," Louis mumbles. He tips his head down to show Niall the pile of hot pink strands now residing there. 

"Looks good," Niall comments simply. Louis pouts and ruffles his hair nervously.

"Really?"

"Yep," Niall affirms. 

"You wanna hear what I think?" the raspy voice chimes in again. Louis sends a middle finger its way, making no bother to acknowledge it further than that. 

"It's too bright," Louis continues to Niall.

"Then some of it will wash off when you shower," Niall offers, polite despite clearly wanting this conversation to be over and Louis to be gone.

"You wanna hear what I think?" 

"No one wants to hear what you think, Ringo!" Louis calls over his shoulder. 

"Looks like a strawberry took a massive shit on your head," the other boy continues anyway.

Louis grits his teeth, simultaneously hating the irony of their matching thoughts despite hating each other's guts and convincing himself not to punch the foul creature. So he turns around slowly and effectively shoots daggers at the boy with his glare.

Harry sits atop a small stool, massive chopsticks (Louis will forever call them that) held firmly in one hand, his other hand placed on the thigh of his Adidas track pants. A ratty white t-shirt hangs off his shoulders. Surrounding him are an assortment of drums and cymbals. The ones he bangs over aggressively with his massive chopsticks and pretends like he's a legend for it. Harry's gaze is pure evil, his eyes lit with flames of joy and mischief, the matches being Louis' misery. 

Liam stands to his right, cherry red guitar slung over his shoulder. He looks thoroughly bored and like he's bracing himself for another round of sharp insults, cruel shouting, and stubborn frowns to start. Louis almost feels sorry for him.

And Niall stands to his right, a black and less-shiny-than-Liam's guitar hanging in front of his torso, a microphone propped up in front of him. He also appears to be painfully awaiting the inevitable. 

"That's enough speaking for one day, Curly," Louis says with a tight, fake smile. "Don't want to embarrass yourself too much. Stick to drumming."

Harry smirks. "You-"

"Oh, wait," Louis continues, completely ignoring Harry's effort to make a witty response. "You can't even do that right," he says with a shrug. 

Harry's smirk falters and he narrows his eyes. "You don't even know shit about music. I bet you listen to bats screeching and find it enjoyable."

"It's not that hard, Styles. It's just banging sticks on a bunch of plates," Louis adds without missing a beat. "Monkeys could do it."

"You're one to talk, all you do is get high and complain about your life."

"Then again, you never were the brightest." Louis can see the frustration bubbling inside Harry. He stalks slowly towards the boy. "I think it's time to leave the band, Ringo."

Harry's eyes are lit with a different fire now, rage. His grip on the drumsticks hardens. 

"Okay, that's enough," Niall interjects. Neither acknowledges him.

"You spend an awful lot of time plotting my demise," Harry says, voice smooth and controlled. "Ever heard of making friends..?"

"I have friends, thank you very much," Louis shoots back. 

"Zayn doesn't count, he's only your supplier," Harry counters.

To say that Louis glared would be an understatement. "That's not true in the slightest."

"Isn't it?" Harry drawls.

"Says you, the only friends you have are these two idiots."

"Come on now, don't bring us into this," Niall says with an eye-roll.

"Surprised you even noticed them, you're so obsessed with me," Harry continues. 

"I'm not obsessed with you, and Niall's my brother," Louis argues with an arched brow and crossed arms. 

"Not your real one," Harry refutes.

"Harry," Niall tries.

"Which makes sense considering you turned out to be such a narcissistic brat," Harry pushes despite Niall's warning. "It's no wonder your parents consider you a disappointment. When's the last time your dad even spoke to you?"

At that, Louis drops his stern look and his proud shoulders. His face falls, eyes turning lost. He sees Niall shift uncomfortably out of the corner of his eye, glancing at the floor.

Harry notices the way everything turns quiet. The buzzing of tension created by their slurs now gone from the air and replaced by complete, overwhelming silence. How Liam and Niall look away, nervously fidgeting with the first thing they see as to avoid the awkward tension. Harry's face turns blank, and he just watches Louis and waits. It's clear he would say something if he weren't void of thoughts. But no, he's just blank. 

Louis nods to him and sends a small wave to Niall and Liam before making toward the exit. He leaves the room heavy despite the lack of sound, thoughts, movement, or any sign of life for that matter. He heads for the kitchen and the comfort of a cold box full of food for his enjoyment. It's as he's scouring through the shelves for a container of leftover pasta that Niall approaches him. 

"Louis?"

"Yeah?" Louis answers without looking up, voice calm.

"You alright?" Niall asks, and it's coated with pity and sorrow, and he says it so carefully as if Louis might break. It's too solemn, too full of concern, and Louis doesn't need this, doesn't _want_ any of this. He doesn't need I'm sorry's and he certainly doesn't need pity. He doesn't want to feel fragile. 

"I'm fine," he replies, mustering up all the sincerity he can and pouring it into those words. He doesn't want Niall to worry.

"Harry feels really bad," Niall adds.

"I'm sure the guilt will do him good. The boy needs a little humbling," Louis says light-heartedly. 

There's a pause. "You're sure you're okay?"

Louis finally pulls his head out of the fridge, presenting his container of pasta and placing it on the counter. He places a hand on Niall's shoulder. "Don't worry about me, Niall," he says earnestly, a hair away from begging. 

"No, I will," Niall replies firmly. Louis softens slightly at that. He removes his hand and begins unboxing the pasta before him.

"I'm okay, I promise," Louis assures him. "It's not that big of a deal. Now get back to your practicing, Nialler. You'll kill it at that gig."

Niall responds with a small grin and a clap on Louis' back before he disappears into the garage again.

**

Louis hates school. Loathes it with every bone in his body. Everything about school makes him want to jump off a cliff into a pool of angry sharks. 

And so he's stood in the hallway, absolutely dreading the day, and his only thoughts are "pain" and "death". Luckily, Zayn is next to him so they can suffer together. The raven-haired boy is currently stuffing books in his locker and pulling out the ones that belong to his first few classes. 

"What do you think the school would do if I set this place on fire?"

Zayn considers this for a moment. "I think the real question is how are we going to hang out if you're in juvie."

"You could come with me. I'll set the place on fire and you'll make sure Mr. Stewart doesn't make it out alive." 

Zayn chuckles. "Arson and murder. Sounds like a plan." Louis smiles.

He catches sight of something (or _someone_ ) over Zayn's shoulder, whose focus has returned to his locker. He locks his eyes on the figure, a lanky boy with far too many words and not enough thoughts. 

Louis and Harry have been at each other's throats since the day Niall brought Harry home, like a stray puppy he found on the side of the road (Louis wouldn't be surprised if that were the case). It's not exactly one thing about Harry that irks Louis so much, more so his whole persona. He speaks at the wrong times, says the wrong things (Exhibit A: the previous day's incident). He's far too prideful and flaunts all his glamour that isn't actually there. And he's all false sweetness and Louis bets he likes warm water. He hangs around Louis' house way too often, practically lives there. He's quite literally the gum Louis can't get off his shoe. He's Niall's best friend and bandmate. Niall, who is Louis' stepbrother. So, Louis has no choice but to put up with Harry's bullshit, even if it does drive him crazy. 

After Louis' mum divorced she married Niall's dad, and thus the perfect brother bond was formed (Niall being the older, more sane one, and Louis being the one Niall has to help out of trouble). Niall's dad is made of laughter and sunshine, Niall the same. And so Louis was happy to have him as a father and Niall as a brother, and happy his mum had found somebody. As for Louis' birth dad, well... it's definitely complicated. 

Harry currently looks like a complete wanker. He's dressed in a pair of black skinny jeans and a light grey sweatshirt, white undershirt poking out from under the collar. A black beanie sits loosely on his head, chocolate curls spilling out over his face. He's leaned against a locker, arms crossed, clearly trying way too hard to look like a mysterious bad boy. It's honestly embarrassing to watch.

Harry catches sight of Louis watching and adjusts his stance slightly. His expression softens and after a moment he mouths the words "I'm sorry". Louis only stares back blankly. 

Zayn notices his fixated gaze and turns to look over his shoulder. When he finds the object of Louis' scrutiny he turns back around.

"What's he done now?" Zayn asks casually. Louis looks away from Harry, refocusing on Zayn.

"Nothing. Everything." The corners of Zayn's lips quirk up slightly. "His simple existence bothers me."

Zayn sighs and shuts his locker. "You two sure do fight a lot for how similar you are."

Louis frowns at that. "We are not similar in the slightest."

"You are."

"That's the meanest thing you've ever said to me." 

Zayn grins.

The day passes by slowly, Louis plotting a different way to get rid of this horrid place with every minute that passes. It's just the same process over and over; listen to a teacher blab about some random shit that probably holds no relevance to real life, do a tedious assignment on it, and then go to the next class and do it again. A constant cycle of pain and torture. Louis regrets his existence. No, he's not being dramatic. 

When he sees Harry styles again, it's as he's making his great escape from the prison they call school. He's just left his last class and picked up all the important belongings from his locker and is now headed for the parking lot. He finds Niall's car, a silver Toyota, where they left it this morning. Feeling sweet relief and an overwhelming excitement to get home, he practically bounces up to it. And leaning against the opposite side, in his stupid fucking "bad boy" pose, is a lone Harry Styles. 

"What're you doing here, didn't anyone tell you the Wanker Wagon's over there?" Louis spits. 

"Ha ha," Harry answers tightly. "Niall's bringing me to your house again for practice."

"Thought practices were Monday's, Wednesday's, and Friday's. It's Tuesday."

"Yeah, but we have the gig on Friday, so, extra practice," Harry explains, slight annoyance prominent in his voice. 

Louis purses his lips and nods. "Where's Niall?"

"Dunno," Harry responds flatly. Louis nods again. And then it's just tense silence until Harry speaks up again. "I'm sorry, about yesterday," he says, sounding almost begrudged. Louis doesn't answer and Harry doesn't make him.

Louis knows Harry doesn't mean what he said. It simply slipped out in the heat of the moment, that Harry just wasn't thinking. He knows he would take it back if he could. But that doesn't stop Louis from hating him for it.

Because the truth is, Louis really hasn't spoken to his dad in a while. When his parents first split, and his dad moved as far away as possible, Louis would speak with him every week on the phone. Sometimes his father would invite him to get lunch or watch a footie game at his house, and sometimes Louis would accept. And then his father began calling every week and a half, and every two weeks, and it was like he was slowly trying to fade Louis out of his life. Until one day, he just stopped calling. The last time Louis spoke to him was three and a half weeks ago, and despite desperately wanting to talk to him again, Louis hasn't called him since. He doesn't need to feel more like a burden than he already does with his mum.

But he does his best to push all dad-related issues to the back of his mind and leave them there to rot. Harry's jab just brought them to the front again, where they now thrive and flourish in the sunlight that is Louis' attention.

The two boys stand in silence as they wait for Niall to arrive and ease the awkward tension pounding at their heads.

**

The band is extra loud today. The sound of banging drums and blaring guitars echoes through the house and rings in Louis' ears. He's trying to meditate for god's sake, trying to find his _inner peace._ Zayn told him about it. So after shouting swears toward the garage more times than Louis would like to admit, and none of those times did the boys respond let alone quiet down, Louis decides he'll just go to Zayn's house.

And so now he's sat in Zayn's room, the boy currently pulling a bag of weed out of his nightstand drawer. The two roll the contents of the bag into blunts and let it take them away. Louis relishes in the buzz it gives him, sweet relief from the pounding headache that is his life. 

"Will you come with me to the gig on Friday?" Louis asks, following the question with a pile of smoke that lingers in the air. It leaves traces of its scent until the room smells of weed and turns their brains fuzzy. 

"Do I have to?" Zayn responds, although he already knows the answer to Louis' question that wasn't really a question and more of a demand.

"Yes, I'll be miserable without you. I hate loud noises and tight spaces," Louis complains, already cringing at the thought.

"And Harry Styles," Zayn inputs.

"Especially," Louis emphasizes. "We'll get dinner after, it'll be grand," he pulls the most endearing look he can and pours it onto Zayn, "Please?"

Zayn chuckles lightly. "Fine." 

Louis grins widely but it's gone within an instant and replaced by panic. "Oh, shit. What time is it?"

Zayn grabs sloppily at his phone and pushes a button that lights the screen up. "5:47."

Louis groans. "Family diner," he mumbles. Zayn raises his eyebrows and blows a cloud into Louis' face.

"When?"

Louis rubs at his eyes, regretting every decision in life he's ever made. "Mum wants me home by six."

'Yeah, you probably want to freshen up before then," Zayn says flatly and Louis sends him a look. 

"I'll be fine, she hardly notices me anyway," he answers bitterly. Zayn gives him a small nod.

"And your step-dad?" he reminds him.

"I doubt he even knows what weed is," Louis says with a smirk. Zayn laughs at that. And so Louis slowly pulls himself off the floor, desperately wishing he could just pass out on Zayn's bed and not have to think ever again. But duty calls, and Louis' mum absolutely loves family dinner, so he's doomed to make an appearance. Damn it all.

When Louis makes it home and stumbles through the doorway, he finds one too many people in the kitchen. 

"The hell are you doing here," he asks, heading for the freezer because maybe a glass of ice water will fix him up. "It's family dinner, didn't you hear?" he adds, pain eminent in his voice.

"Your mum is allowing me to stay for _family dinner_ ," Harry mimics as Louis grabs a handful of ice and dumps it into a glass. He places the glass on the counter in front of Harry and pulls a pitcher of water out of the fridge. 

"Great," Louis jeers, coating his voice with as much disdain as possible. He takes a sip of his water, the ice cubes crackling as they collide.

Harry eyes him, smirk crawling onto his face. "You're stoned," he says, clearly pleased. Niall turns at that, having been flicking through a stack of posters promoting their gig. Louis sends the darkest glare towards Harry, who continues anyway. "I mean you look absolutely wrecked."

"Louis," Niall scolds. 

Louis coughs awkwardly and picks up his glass before stalking off towards the stairs. "See you at family dinner," he leaves them with. 

So his evening just got ten times worse. Family dinner is a horribly painful event on its own, but now with Harry there... let's just say Louis should start packing for juvie now. 

When he's in his room he does the best he can to remedy his horrible state. His eyes are bloodshot and lidded, his breath reeking of weed and his hair tugged in all different directions. He starts by changing his clothes, which also carry the stench of the afternoon's activities. He sprays far too much cologne on and brushes his teeth three times. He doesn't do much about his hair, only combs his fingers through it until it looks mildly presentable. The pink dye is still prominent, but not too painful to look at as some of the color washed off in the shower (like Niall said it would). As for his eyes, he just hopes his mum will mistake it for a lack of sleep. 

Louis' mum calls him down a moment later and Louis mentally prepares himself before trotting down the stairs. Niall and Harry are already sat at the table, which is set with floral sapphire placemats and porcelain plates with gold rims (the fancy ones mum always uses for family dinner). There's one extra plate this time, which Louis notes unkindly. 

He gives Harry and Niall a grim smile before taking a seat across from them both. 

"See you've cleaned up," Harry says with a smirk, giving Louis a once-over. Louis sends him a sharp look.

"Ha ha," he replies flatly. "Don't need you making those kinds of jokes during family dinner," he warns.

Harry's smirk spreads. "What, you mean your mum doesn't know you're a stoner," he teases, his voice rising slightly in volume, threatening to expose Louis who's mum is in the kitchen. 

Louis glares. "You're a child."

"You both are," Niall chimes, "You'd better not make a fuss during dinner."

Louis looks pointedly at Harry who brings pinched fingers to his lips, imitating a smoking gesture, and exhales. Louis grits his teeth and sends the toe of his shoe into Harry's shin. 

Niall's dad enters then, hopping cheerily down the stairs and entering the dining room with his arms extended. "I'm here!" he exclaims, beaming. He rubs his hands together, "What's for dinner?"

Louis smiles at him, and Niall answers, "Taco night," to which his father responds, "Lovely!"

Louis has always liked Niall's dad, because how could you not? He's all holly jolly and naturally nurturing. When he and Louis' mum married, he automatically filled the father role that Louis so desperately needed, and did so with flying colors. It's evident that he's the reason Niall is the way he is; purely good and liked by everyone. One evening spent with Niall's dad will inspire you to drink tea, do yoga, and reevaluate your life.

Louis' mum enters the dining room then with a platter of tacos and a grin that could only be brought about by family dinner. She sets the platter down on the center of the table and takes a seat beside Louis. 

And the evening commences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more of Liam next chapter I promise, I feel really bad that he wasn't in this chapter much.
> 
> Anyway, I am set out to make the most chaotic family dinner possible, we'll see how that goes.
> 
> Thank you for reading! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided that Harry's song is Scrawny by Wallows and Louis' is Tongues by The Frights, so do with that what you will.
> 
> The song for the concert part of this chapter is Out of Tune by The Backseat Lovers, I'm begging you to listen to it it's so so good. (Hint: it's the song I describe.)
> 
> Enjoy :)

There's not much to expect from a family dinner that's not really a family dinner, except the worst. 

They each pile their plates with tacos, Louis' mum swatting his hand away when he goes for a fourth. They make polite conversation and discuss the contents of their day. Their conversation fills the air with light chatter in between the sounds of clinking glass and the crunching of taco shells. It's an overly formal setting for taco night, but Louis' mum has never been known for her causality. Even if they were having peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner she would still make an effort to deck the dining room with one of her many tablecloths and chinaware. 

They've only just begun dinner when the first wave of misery hits. Now, listen. Louis loves his step-dad, he really does. But sometimes he can be a little... aloof. He doesn't quite understand how Louis and his mum's relationship works. It's like this; Louis does anything, Louis' mum gets angry. So one innocent comment, the one that went, "I like what you've done with your hair Louis," sends his mum into a frenzy. 

Her head snaps toward him immediately, eyes flying straight up to his hot pink mess of hair. "Louis, what did you do," she scolds. 

Louis finishes chewing slowly, stalling because he's about to witness his own murder. He swallows, eyes still trained forward, refusing to meet her crazed stare. "Hm?"

She sticks a hand in his hair and squints at the strands of color. "This is inappropriate, Louis."

"It's just hair dye, Mum," he grumbles, tugging her hand out of his hair. "Besides, it's been there for almost two days and you never noticed until now."

"What're we going to do when you can't find a job because you've got too many piercings and tattoos and exotic hair colors," she continues. Louis glares, having gotten this lecture far too many times already. 

"That's not gonna happen, Mum, you're being dramatic," he objects sharply.

"I think it looks great," Niall's dad chimes, which receives a glare from Louis' mum. 

"It'll wash out soon enough," Louis assures her. 

"It'd better," she shoots back. "Next thing we know, you're going to be off smoking weed."

At that, Louis hears an abrupt, guttural sound in front of him. He turns to find Harry choking on a bite of taco, eyes gone watery as he coughs and sputters. Louis jams his heel into the boy's toes. 

"Harry, are you alright?" Louis' mum asks, the whole table now staring at him. Harry holds a closed fist up to his mouth, and Louis can see him smiling behind it. 

"I'm fine," Harry answers hoarsely, glancing up at Louis with giddy eyes. Niall pats him on the back, seemingly holding back a smile as well. The two morons. 

"So, are you boys excited for your gig?" Niall's dad asks when Harry has finished his coughing fit, effectively changing the conversation.

"Oh yeah," Niall chirps, grinning from ear to ear. 

"Definitely," Harry adds. "Although, we can't help but be quite nervous as well." 

"Don't be, you guys will do great," Niall's dad promises them. He's always had a way of instantly comforting people, maybe it's his voice.

"Are your parents coming to watch, Harry?" Louis' mum asks.

Louis looks up from his plate just in time to see Harry's polite grin falter ever so slightly. It's hardly noticeable, but Louis is known to be quite observant. Harry's eyes flick down to the table for a split second before meeting Louis' mum's eyes again. He regains his poised manner far too quickly, Louis notes. Far too gracefully, barely having let it slip at all. 

"No, no they," he wipes his hand over his mouth quickly, "work event."

The two adults nod, seemingly not having noticed the lull in composure. "What do they do?" Niall's dad asks.

Harry pauses, observing with guarded eyes before making his move into dangerous territory. Louis looks to Niall, who only happily chews on his taco, not realizing his best friend needs saving. And as much as Louis loathes Harry (he does, abso-fucking-lutely), he knows the feeling. So he'll do him this favor.

"I invited Zayn, by the way," Louis announces, probably a little too enthusiastically. Niall perks up at that.

"Did you?" he says with a mouth full of taco. 

"Yeah, do you think he could come to dinner with us after?" Louis asks, turning towards his mum. 

"Of course, I love Zayn," his mum hums.

"Speaking of weed," Harry mutters under his breath. Louis wishes he could strangle him. He sends another foot into his shin as compensation. 

"Oh, Louis, before I forget," his mum declares, "Your father called."

Louis turns abruptly at that, the simple statement stinging him. He sees Niall and Harry still in his peripheral, both gawking at him. Louis stares at her for a moment, far too many thoughts erupting from the depths of his mind and clouding his head. He frowns and bites the corner of his lip before replying, "What did he say?" 

"He wants to have lunch with you next week," she answers simply, not following with the shift in mood.

"And did he say why he hasn't called in three weeks?" Louis asks sharply. He squeezes his fist shut under the table, jaw clenched. 

Louis' mum coughs awkwardly and eyes Niall and Harry before looking towards Louis. "Not now," she says tightly. 

"Right, wouldn't want to ruin family dinner. You already invited Harry anyway, might as well-"

"Louis!"

"Go ahead, mum. Tell me, what prompts a father to ignore his own child for so long?"

Louis feels the pressure of everyone's eyes on him, feels it pound at his head, and gnaw at his stomach. He's like a car accident you can't look away from, one that only gets worse.

Louis' mum watches him for a second, then shakes her head. "We're not doing this right now."

Louis shrugs. "Fine. I've only been waiting three and a half weeks, I guess I could wait a bit longer," he spits bitterly.

" _Louis,_ " she warns.

"You clearly have an answer, mum. Come on, what are you so scared to tell me?"

Louis receives one last disapproving look before the admission pours out of her mouth. 

"Your father's getting remarried."

The words spill out onto Louis, seeping into his brain and muddling his thoughts, painting his face with an expression that can only be described as 'lost'. They clog his ears, leaving him in silence, and coat his body with a tingling feeling. It all just swallows him whole for a moment. 

Louis had no idea that his father was even _seeing_ someone, and now he's getting married? 

"Wh- to who?" Louis demands. 

Louis' mum shakes her head. "We're having family dinner," she says firmly.

Louis rolls his eyes and attempts to recall all the pleasantries they've exchanged this _family dinner_ , and comes up blank. But he's too exhausted to push further, having used up all his energy on getting the first answer. 

He stares blankly at the taco in front of him, having lost his appetite completely. He scratches at the back of his head, willing a thought to form. The table has fallen completely silent and Louis feels slightly guilty for causing such discomfort. 

His father's getting _married?_

"How'd you do on that test, Niall?" Louis' mum asks, still trying to salvage the not-actually-a-family-dinner family dinner.

Niall has to blink back into reality before answering. "Oh, um, I got a ninety," he answers, a slight edge to his voice. 

"See, you were worried for nothing," his dad chirps.

"You're so smart, Niall," Louis' mum coos. "You'll definitely be going places with those grades. Can't say the same for Louis..."

"Okay, I'm done with family dinner," Louis announces with a tight smile, erupting out of his chair. 

"Wait, Louis," his mother tries, although it's barely an attempt.

Louis stalks off toward the stairs, longing for the comfort and emptiness of his room.

**

A thick coat of the jet black pigment glides over Louis' nail, quite satisfyingly actually. Louis' never been the most coordinated, but he pays special mind to this task, hunched over his hand and moving cautiously as to not mess it up. He dips the brush back into the glass bottle that he had stolen from his mum's bathroom after minutes of searching.

"What're you doing?" Niall asks, suddenly appearing in the doorway.

"Painting my nails, what's it look like?" Louis answers without removing his eyes from his hand.

"I know, but why," Niall huffs, entering the room without invitation and sitting down on Louis' bed. 

"Dunno. Finding myself, soul-searching, and all that," Louis replies shortly. 

"Ah."

And then it's silent, and Louis tenses, waiting for the inevitable; Niall picking up the pieces Louis' mum left him to step on. 

"Harry left," is all Niall says.

"So soon?" Louis hums, sarcasm coating his voice. Niall chuckles.

"I know you don't like him-"

"Understatement of a century."

"-but he's not as evil as you think."

"I find that hard to believe," Louis mutters, starting on his second hand. 

"He was worried about you today. Asked if you were alright before he left."

"He was just being polite," Louis assures him. "Probably still feels guilty about yesterday, was trying to make up for it." 

There's another beat of silence, broken by Niall asking, "You okay, though?"

Louis pauses, sits in the words for a moment, and decides they don't fit. "I didn't even know he was dating again, Niall."

"I know," Niall soothes, even though he really doesn't know. 

"I mean, how could he not tell me? And now, he's getting married to- _god knows_ who, I-" he sighs, recollecting his thoughts that have all scattered to the edges of his mind in an attempt to slip away and be forgotten. "I don't want to have lunch with him, that's- I just-"

"It'll be okay," Niall consoles, "It'll give you guys a chance to clear everything up. It'll be good for you, a sweet release from all your worries."

Louis blows at his nails, imagining it. "Maybe," he mumbles.

"You can think about it more tomorrow, you should get to sleep," Niall offers, standing from the bed. Louis looks to the clock, which reads _11:53 pm,_ and so he agrees. 

**

Friday rolls around, which means gig night. The boys make a big spectacle of it, hanging up posters that read, _"The Enchanted:_ (a stupid name really, they'd be better off with something like 'The Wankers') _Tonight, 8 pm at Skipper's"_ with an address to their local grill attached at the bottom. Louis is required to make an appearance to support Niall, it's inescapable. 

Louis and Zayn sit in Louis' room with half an hour until they have to leave for the event, Niall and his bandmates having left only a few minutes ago to set up. Louis has just poured the contents of his brain into a muddy puddle for Zayn to sort through. They are, of course, accompanied by a pair of blunts, because Louis doesn't think he'll be able to get through this night without a little buzz. 

The day following the family dinner incident, Louis and his mum had sat down and discussed his father's remarriage. It's to a woman named Lauren, who he met at a cafe (classic) around a year ago. According to Louis' mum, he never got around to telling Louis about her because he wasn't sure if anything would result from it. When they got engaged, he wasn't sure how to tell Louis about everything and stopped calling out of fear. Louis' still not sure how to feel about all of it. 

"Shit, that's rough," Zayn states flat out. Louis chuckles lightly.

"It is what it is," he mumbles. He begins clambering off the floor and making towards his closet. "Okay, what do you wear to a night of horror," he muses.

Louis adorns himself in a simple pair of jeans and a graphic tee, and within twenty minutes Louis' mum is herding them out the door, complaining about some rancid smell as Louis and Zayn try their best to contain their laughter.

The venue is somewhere Louis has been many times before, a classic hangout spot for junky teens like himself. It holds a musty atmosphere and a smokey scent. Wooden beams line the ceiling, most of the furnishings made from the same dark wood. The thick walls and lack of windows suffocate the room's occupants, leaving the air stuffy. It's full of the sound of clinking glass and light chatter, the noise almost pleasant and comforting, warm. A small stage is placed in the center of the back wall, where the boys are soon meant to be. A steady flow of people drift in through the door, the building actually growing crowded. 

"This should be fun," Louis declares flatly. He's not sure how much of the dense space and heavy air he'll be able to take before it becomes too much. 

"Hey!"

Louis has about two seconds to turn and register who the voice belongs to before he's struck by another body colliding with his, encompassing him in tight arms and almost knocking the wind out of him. 

"Niall," he huffs, "Hey."

"You excited?" Niall asks giddily, squeezing Louis once more before pulling away. 

"Yeah, yeah, definitely," Louis answers with a grin. "How're you feeling?" 

"Definitely nervous, but excited yeah," Niall replies, practically bouncing on his feet. "I'm running on adrenaline. And a few energy drinks."

Louis smiles and smacks a hand to the side of his arm. "You'll be great."

Niall nods, sends a small wave toward Zayn, says, "Well, I gotta go, we're on in five," and then skips away.

So now it's Louis vs concert. 

-

The band stands atop the stage now, a soft spotlight illuminating them and painting their features with golden light. Harry's placed on the left side of the stage, an array of drums encircling him. His curls lay freely, brushing the tips of his ears and eyelashes. He grips his drumsticks (massive chopsticks) firmly, a look of determination plastered across his face. His eyes shine excitedly. Niall's center stage with a walnut acoustic guitar held in front of him by a leather guitar strap. A microphone stands in front of him almost menacingly. His honey-colored hair is emphasized by the spotlight, eyes wide with childlike elation. Liam is to his right, an onyx electric guitar hanging in front of him. He holds it with purpose, his face revealing nothing but confidence. His hair is artfully disheveled, eyes like molasses. 

The crowd stands in anticipation, Louis having strayed from it in favor of watching from a less compact area. He had wandered to the edge of the mob where the cluster of people begins to fray and now stands there waiting. Niall gives a simple introduction, effortlessly charming the crowd instantly, and then it begins.

Liam plucks at the strings of his guitar skillfully, emitting a warbled sound. It feels like a breeze, swirls in their ears. Then he begins strumming. It's smooth and velvety against the distinct silence of the room, and Liam does it with ease. He contorts his fingers into different chords and strums delicately. 

Then Harry joins in. At first, he only taps lightly at the cymbal, then shifts into striking a steady beat against a small drum as Liam's strums become more pronounced. Harry drums with special concentration, his hands and wrists graceful and maneuvering the drumsticks with skill.

The melody produced by Harry and Liam's instruments grows stronger, and that's when Niall begins strumming at his guitar. There's a few moments of just their instruments flooding the room with elegant sound, engulfing all of its occupants with an overwhelming feeling of comfort. It's a pleasant sound, feels warm and welcoming. And then it cuts off abruptly just as Niall leans into the mic and sings one sweet line before the music picks back up again. 

And it all feels so fluid and effortless, the song natural and easy to listen to. It soothes their swarming minds and relaxes their tense shoulders. It smooths the creases in their forehead and enunciates their laugh lines, signs of good memories. It's like a wave of pixie dust that ripples through the crowd and instantly heals their aching hearts and open wounds. 

Louis watches in amazement, never having heard such a sound come from the worn-down garage of his house. Niall sings delightfully, eyes sparkling and captivating the crowd. It's all so... glorious. It's fascinating to watch. With each note, the audience becomes more mesmerized and lured into a sense of tranquility and solace. Louis lets himself be swallowed by it all. 

_You had my back, and I had yours._

_You had my back, and I had yours...'_

**

They sing a few more songs, and Louis watches alone from the darkness of the sidelines, where he is able to relish in it all. Each song ends in the crowd erupting into a chorus of applause and cheers, sometimes whistles. Louis feels himself grinning without control throughout the whole phenomenon. 

Eventually, the boys say their goodbye's to the crowd after thanking them for an 'incredible night'. As they leave the stage, Louis begins pushing through the crowd to reach them. He finds Niall and instantly wraps him into a hug.

"That was incredible!" he exclaims, Niall chuckling lightly in his ear. 

"Thank you, thank you," he answers, voice gentle. Louis' parents come bouncing up to them then, accompanied by Zayn. Niall is pulled away from Louis' arms as he's swallowed by the two hysterical adults. Liam's family also bound up to them, engulfing him too. 

And then there's Harry.

Who watches idly, lips slightly quirked upward at the joyous families. He fidgets with his drumsticks, arms empty. And as the parents begin their slew of compliments and exclamations, he stands off to the side in the dark. 

So, Louis (doing charity work because he really is an amazing person) sidles up to him and hesitantly says, "You did alright, Ringo."

Harry scoffs, a small smile playing on his lips. 'Yeah, thanks."

"Anytime," Louis replies happily. 

"Did you enjoy it?" Harry asks, still watching the huddle of families.

Louis pauses. "I did, actually, yeah."

"I didn't see you in the crowd," Harry inquires.

Louis is taken back slightly by that and clears his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, well, I watched from the back."

Harry nods slowly. "Hm. Why?"

Louis shrugs. "Just don't like tight spaces." Harry nods again, and they're silent for a moment. 

"You can hear everything proper from back there?"

Louis glances up at the boy, his gaze quickly returning to stare aimlessly in front of him. Because Harry's eyes were glossy and wide, the green swirling into a storm. The boy was crying.

"Uh, yeah, actually better so. Didn't have anyone screaming in my ear, y'know," Louis answers, a slight edge to his voice. Harry's lips quirk up.

"And the instruments, how'd they sound?"

Louis nods his head from side to side, contemplating. "Pretty great."

Harry nods. There's another long, lingering moment of silence before Harry says, "You should have that lunch with your father."

Louis stills, stomach going hollow at the sentence. "That's none of your business."

"He's your father, you don't want to lose him."

Louis shakes his head. "I already did."

"You didn't."

"I did."

"No, you didn't," Harry insists. Louis clenches his jaw.

"Stop trying to-to therapize me. You have no idea about me and my father," he spits.

"Then what exactly are you doing to me," Harry snaps. Louis says nothing. "I'm not stupid, I know you only pity me. Like how you did at dinner," he continues. He turns toward Louis, the tragic, broken expression from earlier long gone and replaced by anger. "Save it for someone else," he hisses, and then he's gone, taking off towards the shadows. 

**

As they enter October, the weather begins to fade into smokey skies and sharp winds. The leaves are brushed with honey and the grass is kissed with dew. It all feels very comforting and homey, like a big hug wrapped around the sky. 

Louis has had all weekend to decide whether he is going to see his dad or not, it now being Monday. He has decided on no.

"No?" Zayn repeats. Louis shakes his head.

"I... I just can't," he mumbles. 

"That's okay," Zayn comforts, picking off a piece of his muffin and popping it into his mouth.

Louis sighs. He slumps down to rest his chin on his folded arms that sit atop the cafeteria table. "It's not," he mutters. 

"No, it is, Louis. You don't have to forgive him immediately, no one's expecting you to," Zayn assures him. 

"My mum is."

"That's not her call to make," Zayn insists. Louis considers this. 

The cafeteria buzzes around them, but Zayn and Louis are in their own little bubble. No one really talks to them, which Louis is perfectly fine with. He's not a big people person. 

"Can I come over after school today," Louis asks, face still planted into the crook of his elbow. "Band practice today."

"Yeah, that's fine," Zayn answers warmly.

"Cool."

The bell rings then and after a resounding groan, the two boys stand from the table. They start toward the right side of the school, chatting aimlessly about the worst that would happen if they became high school dropouts. They're just passing the library when a sharp shoulder connects with the side of Louis' body. Louis turns as the owner of the shoulder stalks away, curls bouncing behind him. 

"What the hell!" Louis shouts and receives no reply.

"What's his deal?" Zayn asks. Louis turns again and continues the path towards his class, jaw clenched.

"I don't know he's just a fucking psycho," Louis mutters. 

"You sure you didn't do anything?" 

"No, Zayn, I didn't _do_ anything," Louis grumbles, rubbing at his shoulder. 

The rest of the day passes tediously. Louis has a pop quiz in history, which he bubbles in letters on at random. His last class is math, and while he's meant to be taking notes he makes doodles of cats instead. And then he's finally free and wastes no time leaving the classroom and rushing towards the parking lot. When he reaches Niall's car, it's already filled with three familiar boys.

Louis knocks on the passenger door window and it's soon being rolled down, Louis greeted with a menacing grin. 

"Can I help you?" Harry coos.

"Front seat's mine," Louis replies with a tight smile.

"You can sit in the back today," is all Harry says, and Louis considers spitting on the boy.

He reluctantly slides into the back seat, sending a small wave to Liam who answers with a friendly, "Hey, Louis." 

"You can just drop me off at Zayn's," Louis tells Niall.

"Alright," Niall replies, emphasizing the first syllable. Harry taps Niall on the shoulder and makes a smoking gesture at him, a dorky smile plastered onto his face.

"Joke's getting old, Styles," Louis says through gritted teeth. Liam coughs awkwardly, and Harry smirks.

"Tell me, Louis. What is so appealing about killing your body?" he asks happily, looking at Louis through the rearview mirror. Louis only glares back, so Harry continues. "Do you actually enjoy it, or is it just a distraction from your misery?"

"What is this, an intervention?" Louis bites back. 

"Come on, Harry," Liam scolds.

"Are you doing it for attention? From, say, your mum?" Harry taunts. 

Louis turns toward the window and shakes his head. "You're not funny."

"I'm just curious," Harry responds innocently. "I mean, I honestly don't blame you."

"Harry, don't," Niall pleads. The remark goes through the boy's ear and out the other.

"If I was a burden to everyone around me, I would do the same. You must feel terribly guilty."

"What the hell, Harry," Liam hisses.

Louis bites down hard on his lip, eyes stuck on the trees passing outside the window. The comment stings, hollowing out his stomach and leaving his throat dry. He has no idea where it came from, why Harry is so angry with him. Did the incident at the concert really hurt him that badly?

The rest of the ride is quiet, so quiet their ears ring. Niall stops in front of Zayn's house a few minutes later.

"Text me when you need to be picked up," Niall says as Louis gets out of the car, his face appearing tired.

"I can just walk," Louis offers.

"If it's dark, you text me," Niall compromises. Louis nods, sending him a small smile before closing the door. He catches a glimpse of Harry before he turns away; the boy stares emptily at Louis, almost (emphasis on the almost) apologetically. Louis looks away promptly. 

"I hate him," Louis announces as soon as he barges into Zayn's room. "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him."

"Who, Harry?" Zayn asks, sat at his desk with a small cream sheet of paper and a ballpoint pen.

Louis threads his fingers into his hair and tugs at the strands. "Yes, yes it's always Harry. I am actually going to kill him one of these days," he huffs, "Oh my _god_. How can one person be so horrible? He's evil I tell you. What kind of fucking psycho-"

"Louis, take a breath," Zayn reminds him, now fully turned towards the boy. "What happened?" 

Louis flops down onto the bed, legs hanging off the edge and back pressed to the sapphire comforter. He places his hands on his forehead, a headache already forming. "Everything. He always does this, he just keeps poking when he knows he should stop. There's something wrong with this boy, I mean, seriously."

"What'd he say, exactly," Zayn persists.

Louis bites the corner of his lip, eyes searching the ceiling. "Called me a burden. Told me I should feel guilty," he says flatly. "It was so awful, Zayn, he just wouldn't stop. I mean, Niall and Liam were practically _begging_ him and it was like- I don't know, he just wouldn't listen. And- and he always makes comments about my family, it's like he has no sense of human decency." 

Zayn stares incredulously at Louis, not sure what to say. Louis sighs.

"But how was your day?"

**

The week passes slowly, Louis avoiding Harry at all costs. If he encounters him in the hall at school, Louis turns the other way. When he's over at Louis' house for band practice, Louis locks himself in his room. The only time Louis sees Harry for the rest of the week is when they drive him home, but even then Louis said nothing to him and kept his gaze strictly out the window. Harry didn't say anything to him either, only made small talk with Niall. 

The following week brings harsher weather, the grey skies turning into a sheet of charcoal clouds and the sharp winds turning into soft rain. School only gets increasingly worse as the teachers begin demanding more. Louis receives a series of upside-down tests and disappointed looks and speak-to-me-after-class's. He's currently facing his math teacher.

"Maybe you should get a tutor," she offers with a pitiful look. Louis almost rolls his eyes. 

"I don't really have enough time in my schedule," he says with as much politeness as he can muster, (a complete lie by the way). 

"Do you have anyone at home who can help you?" she asks. 

Louis knows exactly what'll get him out of this one. "I could ask my brother for help."

"And who is your brother?"

"Niall Horan."

Louis watches her face immediately light up, Niall being every teacher's favorite.

"Oh, lovely! I had Niall and yes, he is an excellent student," she answers with a grin. 

Louis gives her a small nod and a tight smile. "I'll be sure to ask him," he says, already backing out the door.

"Thank you, Louis," she calls after him.

He enters the hallway with a relieved sigh, searching for his locker so he can get the fuck out of this hellhole. He stops in front of it in the center of the hallway and begins inputting his combination. 

"What're you still doing here," a rough voice asks. Louis inwardly groans. 

"What's it to you," he answers flatly, shoving books into his locker.

Harry leans against the locker beside him (doing his 'bad boy' pose again and looking like a complete moron). "Just making polite conversation."

"You and your polite conversation," Louis bites back sarcastically. "Don't you have any puppies to run over?"

Harry raises his eyebrows, "What's got you so bothered?" 

Louis slams his locker and hoists his bag over his shoulder. "You're just such a _burden_ it's hard to not be bothered by you," Louis mocks, turning toward the exit. 

"Ah, you're still mad," Harry concludes, following Louis down the hall. 

"Not really, just don't feel like playing your games anymore," Louis replies simply.

"I don't have games."

"So you're just a raging dickhead for no reason?"

Harry grabs Louis' shoulder, stopping him in his tracks and turning him around. "What's wrong with you?" he asks exasperatedly. 

Louis yanks Harry's hand off of his shoulder and grabs a fistful of his shirt, pushing him up against a row of lockers. "What's wrong with me? Are you fucking _dense?_ What do you want me to do, thank you? Being an asshole doesn't earn you applause, Harry."

"Why are you so upset?" Harry breathes.

"Because you act like you can say whatever you want and none of it will matter. I'm a _person,_ Harry, you just treat me like a fucking toy. You just wind me up until I break."

"I hurt you?"

"What the hell do you think?" Louis huffs. "You think I _enjoy_ hearing how much of a shitshow I am? You think I enjoy hearing how I fuck everything up, how no one wants me? I _know_ , Harry. I know I'm fucked up, I know I'm worthless."

Harry blinks. "I-"

"Mr. Tomlinson." 

_Shit._

With one last firm look, Louis releases Harry, taking a step backward. "Mr. Keith," he answers pleasantly (not). 

The man approaches them slowly, his dress shoes click-clacking on the cement floor. "You alright, Harry?" he asks when he reaches them.

Harry looks from the principal to Louis, then back to the principal. His face looks lost, borderline solemn. "Yeah," he replies, voice distant.

"You can go," he tells Harry, and with one last glance at Louis, the boy is gone. Mr. Keith turns back to Louis. "This isn't the first time you've been in trouble, Louis," he says, unamused. And Louis prepares himself for a long evening of lectures and reprimanding.

-

"What the hell took you so long?" Niall calls out the car window. Louis wants to slam his own head into a wall.

He reaches the car and crawls into the passenger seat. "Ask your best bud," he grumbles.

"Harry?" Niall questions. "I saw Harry leave like twenty minutes ago."

Louis emits a loud, dragged-out groan. 

"What's wrong with you?" Niall asks, confusion written all over his place. Louis gives him a sharp look. 

"If one more person asks me that," he says through gritted teeth. Niall's face only grows more confused. "Start the car," Louis demands.

Niall does as told with a bewildered shake of the head. "Fine," he mumbles.

Louis rubs his eyes, his head pounding, and sighs. "I got a week's worth of detention," he mutters.

"A week? What'd you do?" Niall exclaims. 

Louis grits his teeth. "Your best mate _Harry_ approached me after school today," he starts, "I got a little...aggravated, y'know. How could you not, the guy's a complete wanker."

"And?" Niall persists. 

" _And,_ I like," Louis makes a pushing motion with his hands, "Sort of shoved him up against a locker," he chuckles lightly, "It was hilarious, you should've seen his face." 

Niall gives him an unamused, impatient look. Louis rolls his eyes.

"Well anyway, Mr. Principal came stomping up to us and took me to his office and whatnot," Louis finishes. 

Niall shakes his head. "Christ, Louis," he murmurs. 

"Hey, it's not my fault," Louis exclaims. "Maybe you should keep your friend in check, cause next time he makes a single snarky comment about my life I _will_ rob him."

Niall huffs. "And how do you suppose I do that?"

Louis shrugs. "I dunno, send him to therapy or something," he mutters. 

Niall pauses. "You know mum is going to be livid with you."

Louis sighs. "Yeah," he replies flatly. His stomach leaps as he comes to a sudden realization. "Wait, what's today?" he demands anxiously. 

"Thursday," Niall answers. "Why?"

Louis groans, rubbing at his face again. "Mum doesn't have work today," he explains from behind his hands. "She'll be home."

Niall raises his eyebrows. "Yikes, you're screwed."

Louis glares. "Thanks," he huffs. "Can't you take me to Zayn's house or something?"

"I've already passed it."

"Well then go back," Louis insists.

Niall shakes his head. "I want to get home, I already had to wait thirty minutes for you earlier."

"You don't care for my well-being at all?" Louis whines. "These are my last moments, Nialler. As soon as I walk through that door it's game over."

Niall rolls his eyes. "You're not gonna die."

"Oh, no, I'll be experiencing worse than death," Louis warns, "You've never experienced the wrath of my mother, Nialler."

"You'll be fine," Niall assures him. (Spoiler: he was wrong).

-

"LOUIS WILLIAM TOMLINSON."

Louis instantly recoils, only having just walked through the door. "Hold me, Niall," he shrieks.

Niall's eyes widen. "See ya," he salutes, rushing up the stairs less than a second later. Louis flips him off and continues into the lion's den. 

"Hi Mum," he greets nervously. 

She's stood beside the kitchen island, one hand on her hip and the other placed firmly on the counter. "I received a call from the school," she snaps, " _Threatening_ another student?"

Louis almost laughs. "It was _hardly_ threatening," he defends, "And it was only Harry."

Her eyebrows shoot up higher. "Harry?!"

Louis realizes he's made an error in his calculations and says nothing, not wanting to escalate the situation further. 

"Louis, you have crossed the line this time."

Louis can't believe _threatening Harry_ is what pushed him over the edge.

"You will not have your phone for two weeks and you will not be going anywhere besides school for one."

" _Mum_ ," Louis complains.

"I don't want to hear it," she bites back, and then she's gone.

** 

Louis is having a shitty week. 

He has finished his week's worth of detention, and it's now the following Friday. The fact that he didn't have his phone throughout it all did not make it any easier. It was day after day of sitting in absolute silence doing absolutely nothing for an hour. Basically school on steroids. He hasn't smoked anything in a week since he gets everything from Zayn and hasn't seen him outside of school for a week. He is in complete misery and determined to get far more than high after school. He still doesn't have his phone, which is inconvenient but not completely unbearable. And the worst consequence of all, for the past week he has been forced to listen to the band practice. It drove him absolutely nuts.

Even with earbuds in and the Glee soundtrack on blast, he could still hear the incessant banging of drums and strumming of guitars and "ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR"'s. One day, when the sound was particularly unbearable, he stomped down the stairs and burst into the garage.

"CAN YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP," he had screamed. 

"Jesus, you scared me," Niall responded with a light laugh. Louis raised his eyebrows in question. 

"Sorry Louis, we'll try to be a little quieter," Liam answered. And at that, Louis smiled.

"Thank you, Liam. Why can't you guys be more like Liam?" he cooed. Niall rolled his eyes. 

"Not enjoying grounded life, are we?" Harry mocked. Louis' glare immediately snapped towards him.

"Not particularly, no," Louis bit back. "Maybe if you spent less time around here I wouldn't be so miserable. You're always at our house, it's getting kind of annoying."

Harry shrugged. "I think your family enjoys me here."

"They don't."

"Your parents told me they like having me around," Harry shot back, batting his eyelashes.

"They were probably lying because they felt sorry for you," Louis snapped. "Goodbye now," he added, blowing Liam a kiss before closing the door. 

So, you could say Louis is excited to get out of the house today. And so when the school day finally ends Louis rushes out into the cold, crisp air, feeling the sweet freedom of not having detention. He practically skips to Niall's car and immediately demands he be taken to Zayn's house. 

"We're waiting for Harry and Liam," Niall answers. 

"Just leave the bozos, they could use a walk anyway, come on!" Louis pleads. 

Niall shakes his head, and a few minutes later Harry and Liam come striding up to the car. Louis sticks his head out the window.

"HURRY UP," he shouts.

The two boys seem startled, and when they get closer Liam says, "Seems like someone is excited to get out of here."

"I finally have my freedom back, Liam. It's a day to celebrate," Louis explains.

"What he means is he gets his weed back," Harry mutters as he and Liam slide into the back seat.

"Yeah, that too," Louis exclaims. "I am far too sober right now," he adds, practically bouncing in his seat. 

The three boys exchange incredulous looks before Niall starts the car and begins pulling out of the parking lot. After a few minutes of sitting in pure silence, Louis takes an exaggerated breath in.

"My last breath of sweet, clean air," he exhales.

"What one grounding does to a man," Liam mumbles from the backseat, Niall chuckling.

"Yeah, Niall, you'd probably be better off taking him home," Harry adds just as Niall pulls into Zayn's driveway. Louis unbuckles his seatbelt excitedly.

"Nope, too late," he announces. He turns to Niall and places a hand on his shoulder. "Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you as a brother?"

"Yeah, don't die, okay?" Niall responds. Louis grins back and with that, he steps out of the car.

When he erupts into Zayn's room he extends his arms and twirls. "I'm here!"

Zayn smiles at him, the boy sitting neatly on top of his bed. "Look who's back," he greets.

Louis sighs. "Oh, I missed you, friend. Being locked in that house has driven me crazy, I mean, I considered becoming a magician at one point just to have something to do."

Zayn's grin widens. "What're we smoking?"

Louis settles on the bed across from Zayn. "Oh, yes, please."

They roll two blunts and light them, bringing them to life. Louis savors each drag, relishes the taste, and drowns in the intake of cannabis and the exhale of smoke. He lets his head become light and his tongue become heavy, lets his body go limp and the scent of weed grow strong. His mind swirls, the thoughts forming a tornado. With each breath of life the blunt gives him, he feels himself falling deeper and deeper into a spiraling hole. And for a moment, it becomes easier to exist. It all swallows him whole, brainwashes him. Gives him everything and nothing to think about. And, as Louis promised himself, he sees stars. 

At one point, he considers falling in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm really excited for the next chapter :)


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